We Fight for Those We Love
by butterfly-pieces
Summary: Lisa and Joshua's relationship develops with time but the more it develops, the more she fears he will be pulled further away from her. One-Shot. Joshua/Lisa.


Lisa wakes up from a dreamless sleep and even though her eyes are open – alert – she tries not to move.

She doesn't want to risk realizing she's still trapped, in her grandmother's cell or in her room in the Mothership; another cell but with a better disguise.

The bed isn't as comfortable – twin-sized – and it smells of humidity.

It reminds her this is not the Mothership, not another cell, but a hiding place – a motel – where Erica had placed her, and Joshua.

It reminds her she's not alone.

She sits up, the sheet falling off her, and she sees the twin-sized bed beside her, already empty and made.

Had he slept at all?

She throws her legs over the edge of the bed, finding the pair of sneakers Erica had gotten her and wearing them without socks, feeling it chafe her heel somewhat.

"Joshua?" She looks to the bathroom door, but there's no light under the doorway.

She knocks before pushing it open and sees no one there.

She frowns, going to the window so she can pull the curtain aside – Erica had made them swear not to leave the room. She sees the rain first – pouring like a flood – the cars in the parking lot and a singular figure, standing not too far from the sidewalk, under the rain.

Her eyebrows are furrowed – thoughtful – and she doesn't dare interrupt him then.

Joshua, as much as he has fought for the Fifth Column – to protect their species from tyranny, to protect the humans from extinction – has never been on Earth long enough to enjoy the simple pleasures – any of them.

He's been stuck on that ship, as Chief Medical Officer, to gather information before things unraveled, and yet, he had never chosen to leave – never had a cause to bring him out, to force them to lose their informant...until her.

Lisa wants to feel guilty – knows she should – but guilt isn't the only feeling Joshua – and his actions – evokes in her.

Joshua kept her alive – kept her sane – whilst she was in captivity.

He took every opportunity to see her, to see _to_her, with the excuse of attempting to study the unraveling of human emotions in their kind.

Joshua would find every excuse in the book to make Anna think her daughter could still be useful – in spite of her betrayal – and he could also keep Anna from taking too much information from Lisa in regards to the Fifth Column.

When Anna began to lose her patience and Lisa's sister took the pedestal of future queen, ready to bear children, Joshua did something not even Lisa expected.

Lisa's sister died that night.

Her mother's rage brought fire on Lisa – Lisa never blamed Joshua for it, still doesn't – but it also brought Anna to a realization.

She couldn't kill Lisa.

The people, even the humans, had already expected Lisa – her copy – to be the future queen and even though Anna could easily spin this as another Fifth Column attack, it would bring a pressure on her reign she could not ignore – her people were already uneasy of Amy's presence amongst them.

So Anna gave Joshua – his most trusted medical officer – the task of attempting to cleanse Lisa from her emotions and make her submissive.

Lisa would have smiled at that order, if she hadn't been covered in bruises and cuts from her mother's temper tantrum.

It was a small price to pay. After her sister's death, she and Joshua had more time to plot and he didn't have to use that many excuses to see her anymore.

However, there was Amy.

Joshua – just one man, one _single_man, taking so much upon him – had taken it upon himself to try and gain the child's trust. He believed she could be turned against Anna or, at least, be a dangerous enemy that would be better kept close than far. Lisa had agreed on the latter, but she was skeptical of the former.

Amy was too great a fanatic of her mother to ever see truth – truth, Lisa thought, was irrelevant to Amy. All she saw was Anna and the idea of someone so devout being close to Joshua _terrified_her.

Many a night, her tone displayed that, the emotion strange to her but real.

Joshua assured her everything would be fine – that she would be safe – but it wasn't her safety she was concerned of.

She tried to communicate this to Erica when Joshua brought her a comm device for her to use – her mistake had been using it while Joshua was in the room – but she thought, if Erica would agree Joshua should take a step back, then Joshua would listen to her.

They both admired the FBI agent and her brave actions against Anna.

Erica, however, did not see things the same way as Lisa did – further evidence that her concerns were based on feelings, and not a complete overview of the "bigger picture", as Kyle Hobbes called it.

When the conversation had ended, she had avoided his eyes, but Joshua's eyes followed her.

"Don't you trust me?"

The question had caught her off guard; wide-eyed, she nodded, hugging herself, "Of course, I do."

"Then why are you trying to keep me away from Amy?" He took a step closer to her, then another, and another, until they were close enough for her to have to look up into his eyes, "Her bliss cannot affect me."

She frowned, understanding touching her.

He had no idea.

Joshua, clearly, had no clue how her emotions had been clinging to him, all this time, as the only anchor and beacon of hope she had. No, more than that, he was the only kindness she'd ever known – only true and honest kindness – with no hidden agenda. What's more, he believed in her, as a visitor and future queen.

He thought her worth fighting for.

If she lost him, she would lose _everything_.

When she lost Tyler, she lost her reason to fight, to try and keep her mother's plans from unraveling and destroying Tyler's home – his family.

If she were to lose Joshua, she wouldn't just lose her will to fight...she would lose herself.

"My queen," his eyes were worried, inquiring, and she blinked, suddenly realizing that her thoughts had kept her silent longer than she thought.

"It's not the bliss I'm worried about, Joshua," she murmured, softly. "It's you. It's what she can do to you. She can still hurt you."

"She won't," Joshua's answer was quick – too quick – and it made her wince. Off that, he continued, "She is beginning to harbor feelings for me."

Her eyes widened, aghast, "And you? Do you...?"

The question would not leave her lips for fear of being answered, but it was still there, lingering.

"No," he answered just as quickly and she released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in. He tilted his head in curiosity. "Is that what you're worried about? Do you think any existence of feelings for her would make me betray you?"

She raised a brow, realizing how oblivious Joshua can be – sometimes. Although, what he said rang true, he probably didn't interpret it the same way she did.

"I think," she worded the words carefully, "I care about you. It's...a feeling. I can't control it."

"Then don't," he took a step closer, lifting her chin with his finger, and she held her breath then, shocked. "But I need you to trust me."

She nodded, wordless, afraid that if she said anything else, she would cause him to remember who she is, who _he_is, where they are and the risks this would develop.

He searched her eyes for what felt like hours and when he lowered his face to hers, she wasted no time in stealing his breath. She pulled him closer, felt his mouth opening for her, and she all but moaned, until a throat clearing caused them to jump.

Marcus.

After that day, Lisa didn't see Joshua as often.

Luckily, Marcus wasn't a threat – he, of course, wouldn't put himself at risk of being discovered, but he secretly supported their plans of overthrowing Anna, only because it also meant taking Amy down with her.

Marcus took his place and explained Anna was convinced that Joshua wasn't having much success with her and, to Lisa's dismay, Amy wanted more time with him.

"Has he...have they...?" It was a stupid question to ask, one Marcus probably wouldn't know.

He answered all the same, "Yes."

Her heart tightened in her chest and she let herself fall on the chair, almost losing her balance.

Marcus studied her – fascinated – and his next words, coming from him, were surprising, and somewhat comforting. "Anna ordered it. Amy could have killed him after, but she didn't. It's only happened once."

She hid her face in her hands, "I hate this. Being here. Trapped like this."

"Perhaps, if you pretend you no longer feel emotion – that you are subservient – you may be released and choose your own mate."

"But I couldn't choose Joshua," she stated the obvious. Even though her mother would be much too happy to have her daughter back, to breed a new army, Amy was currently her favorite. This ignited a thought. "Can she bear children? Does she...can she bear an army?"

Marcus' face is void of all panic – unlike Lisa's. "An army, no. But Joshua believes it may be possible she can conceive."

"Is she...pregnant now?"

"No."

For some reason, the news didn't make her feel better – it meant Amy would, very likely, try again.

The next few days, whenever Joshua did come to see her, she didn't speak to him.

He didn't speak to her, either.

She knew Marcus had spoken to him – told him that she knew – and he either didn't want to upset her or lie to her in order to reassure her. She knew he wouldn't stop his actions with Amy – not when it brought them closer to their goal.

She cursed her feelings – cursed him – cursed the entire Earth and her mother, too.

She understood the importance of what they were doing – how many lives they had already lost and how many they were trying to save – but her feelings would curse them all, if they could, for a moment of peace.

For once, she missed her mother's bliss.

The last night she was on the Mothership, Joshua came to her, and she would've seen nothing wrong – nothing different from any other night when he gave her news of the Fifth Column, of Project Ares – except he had a cut on his cheek, a weapon in his hand and he grabbed her without so much as an explanation.

"Joshua, what-" She barely had time to form the words. They were already out of her prison and a weapon was placed in her hand as he brought another out from behind his back.

She didn't ask anything else. She aimed and fired – badly, at first, her hand shaking – but it was kill or be killed.

She didn't know what happened – what caused it – but she wasn't about to ask questions when their lives were hanging by such a thin thread.

They barely made it out alive – Lisa has a feeling Marcus helped, somehow – and their shuttle was almost shot down – Project Ares took it from there, making way for a safe landing.

After that, Joshua's wounds were to be treated and Lisa's answers were given.

Amy was pregnant. It wouldn't be an army, but it would be another singular child. Anna's next plan involved using Amy and her unborn child to create a permanent state of bliss on all the world – on the visitors, too. Amy, unlike Anna, could connect with the humans with ease. This would accelerate their plans and encourage the rest of the fleet to accept Amy as a miracle, not an abomination.

It also meant Lisa could die.

With this new development, Anna could wait until she was fertile again – Joshua was meant to make this possible – and birth a new army, a new queen egg, even if it cost her her life, because Amy, in all her miraculous wonder, could lead the fleet until the new queen came of age.

It was an idea inspired by Amy herself – Amy, who began to suspect that Joshua was capable of feeling, and that his feelings lied elsewhere. Amy, who wanted Lisa dead.

Joshua had wasted no time.

He made his choice, without consulting anyone, and simply asked for help as his plan unraveled.

It was a miracle Kyle Hobbes was able to receive the transmission from the comm device at that late hour – most of them asleep – and Joshua never communicated directly with those in Project Ares.

And Marcus was a last minute helping hand, one Joshua hadn't counted on.

His only concern was to get Lisa out of the ship, before Amy could get what she wanted.

Amy, now a greater danger than Anna, could make Joshua feel enough fear for him to act without thought – Erica, and Lisa, and everyone else who heard the story unravel knew what this meant.

Joshua had gotten to know her well enough to _fear_– fear for their lives, for their plans, for the woman he had begun to love.

Now, they hoped, that they had enough information to bring her down from below.

Lisa opens the door and feels the cold hit her like a blanket of pure ice – rain, in winter, is not exactly the best Earth has to offer.

"Joshua!"

He looks over his shoulder, but doesn't move.

She doesn't wait for him. She sprints towards him, tugging his hand when she's close enough and pulling him with her – he doesn't resist – and once she drags him inside, she sees how soaked he is – water dripping on the carpet. She frowns, her own hair cold and heavy with the rain that hit her.

"We need to get you out of these clothes," she thinks, out loud, as she pushes the jacket off his shoulders – he doesn't fight her then, either.

He's watching her – carefully – and helps her take his shirt off.

That makes her pause. She clears her throat, "Don't move." She goes to the bathroom and brings back a towel, drying his chest and hair – that makes her smile – before she sets the towel around his shoulders.

But Joshua isn't smiling – he just stands there, watching her.

"What were you doing?" She frowns, wanting to ask what he was thinking, but afraid to. Would he be thinking of Amy? Of the child they will soon have? Or of her? Of everything?

He doesn't answer – not with words.

In one swift move, he captures her face in his hand and kisses her.

The movement is so quick – unexpected, but welcome – she gasps into his kiss and that allows him entrance.

This kiss is different than their first – that one had been soft, exploring, gentle. This one speaks of an ache, a desperate need, one that had been ignored for too long.

She pulls her shirt over her head and feels the cold of his skin touch the warmth of hers.

He starts walking her to the nearest bed and the back of her knee hits first, causing her to sit as she tries to drag him with her, but he resists.

When they detach, she's catching her breath – so is he – hoping that he doesn't stop this – not now.

She doesn't give it a chance to. She reaches for his pants – the button and zipper – and once her intent is clear, he kicks them off, along with his shoes, and she does the same, until they're both on the bed, his body pressed above hers and the kissing resumes – she wishes it could go on forever.

They fit, together, like a puzzle piece, with a moving scenery, one where the colors simply swirled into each other in pure _bliss_.

Her underwear goes next and she doesn't know when he got rid of his, but she can feel him – feel the skin of his length – pressed on her thigh, hard and ready.

She moans into his lips and he slows down – hands no longer grabbing, pulling her closer or kneading her breasts with bursts of pleasure.

He breaks the kiss, pulls away just enough to look down on her face.

She doesn't know how she looks to him – she's never known – but something in his eyes conveys an adoration she'd seen before, yet never quite imagined what it could be.

Now she knows.

He's caressing her cheek, his thumb moving softly against her skin, and she doesn't know how to say the words – how to tell him, how to ask him, how to just _say_it.

She feels the head start to enter and she arches against him, her hands on his shoulders, her grip tight. He lets her get used to him and it is pleasure and pain and about time that he would be hers, that she would take him, that they would finally join – inseparable – not just in cause, but in love.

_Is that what this is?_

Before her mind could formulate more questions, she feels him everywhere, completely, and whole, and his movements make her thoughts incoherent.

He's not just moving inside of her – he's not clumsy or awkward or quick; he's exploring every corner, touching every wall as he goes, changing angles, touching skin – burning skin – and making her feel something close to pleasure and agony intertwined.

He pulls her leg over his hip before he turns them and she's on top of him, but she stays lying on him, refusing to break the kiss which his slow pace has allowed and encouraged to be more – want more, need more.

She's rocking against him, in every shape physically possible, and she smiles into their kiss when she begins moving in circles because there is a groan stuck in his throat and he grabs a handful of her thighs.

She sits up, throwing her hair back, and decides she wants to hear him again – needs to – and wants to feel him deeper and closer.

She wants to make sure that he never leaves her – never thinks it a choice.

His hands aren't idle. They touch, caress and reach between her folds causing her to throw her head back because _there_is the spot, and he isn't playing fair.

He sits up with her, letting her lock her legs behind his back, as their bodies rock into each other, heat blazing on their skin like a thousand lit candles.

She's looking into his eyes and he's looking back, breaths mingling, focused on their movements alone, breathing hard, heavy and releasing moans into the air so primitive, so _human_, that they're too lost in the moment to realize it.

She feels it coming – wonders if he feels it, too – and when it happens, she buries her face in the crook of his neck, feels him thrust up inside of her a few more times before he spills his release.

Lisa feels exhausted – hungry – and unsatisfied. Not sexually – her entire body wants to thank this man again and again – or emotionally – her heart is about to burst and, if there truly is a soul inside of them, it has found its mate – but something else is missing.

She knows what it is.

"Lisa?"

"I won't do it." She murmurs, holding him, keeping him inside, refusing to end this the way her mother would.

Amy managed it. So can she – and she will do it for love, a mutual love.

"I know," his hand touches the small of her back as he lies on the bed, taking her with him, and caresses circles on her back, calming her, stilling the beast inside.

She sighs, "I love you." She should've said it sooner.

"And I, you," he replies.

She draws back and, were she able to cry, she would be doing that right now. "Say it again." She doesn't know why, but she wants to hear it – wants to hear him – to be told that this is real, that _they_are real.

He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles – a complete smile, one no visitor could ever exhibit with such honesty. "I love you, Lisa – my queen," and off her frown – at the title – "and nothing will change that. Not Anna, not Amy, no one. I will fight for you, for us, for our home, and this time, we'll do it together."

Words get stuck in her throat and she throws herself on him again, kisses him until she thinks they're both out of breath, because for once, they'll fight this battle on their terms, and they'll do it together.


End file.
